


one foot in sea and one on shore

by whalersandsailors



Category: Dishonored (Video Game)
Genre: Dad!Corvo, Empress Emily, Fugue Feast, Gen, Low Chaos (Dishonored), Mischievous Whale Gods, Post-Game(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-07 18:17:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4273203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalersandsailors/pseuds/whalersandsailors
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emily wants to go to the Fugue Feast. Corvo doesn't. In which there are masks, whale charms, a frazzled Callista, and a very strange boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	one foot in sea and one on shore

**Author's Note:**

> Written for lysidas on tumblr for the 2014 Secret Santa Fugue Feast in July.
> 
> The prompt given was: The Outsider disguises himself as a kid and spend Fugue Feast with Emily just to mess with Corvo.
> 
> The title is borrowed from Much Ado About Nothing.

Months had passed since the disbandment of the Loyalists and Emily was returned to Dunwall Tower. Months gone by since that horrible betrayal, Corvo’s meeting with Daud and his assassins, and the crumbling of power in Dunwall. Things had quieted down since then, and life returned to a semblance of normal. Emily continued her lessons with Callista—as she had refused any other tutor upon her return—Sokolov and Piero were distributing a stronger health elixir, General Tobias was appointed the new spymaster, and a new High Overseer was appointed. Although the Flooded District remained sealed, there were fewer dead bodies in the streets, and the rats were disappearing. Some days, the sun even shone a little brighter, and on quiet evenings, Corvo could hear the singing of whales as they returned Gristol’s borders. Emily had become more solemn, no doubt caused by all she had seen and endured in the past year, but she still smiled for Corvo and Callista. The guards and servants doted on her, and during the tedious meetings with Corvo always at an arm’s length away, the new empress proved to be thoughtful and considerate even in her youth.

Though not all had returned to what it had been prior to Empress Jessamine’s death. Whispers of heresy still circled the city, heightened by the horrific actions of the empress’s confidantes and then her daughter’s rescuers. Corvo’s hand was still branded, and although he had taken to wearing gloves most days, the ink still itched and burned under his skin. Recently, the Outsider had been silent. Once, Corvo’s dreams had been nothing but the Void and replays of Jessamine’s death, but now his nights were silent. Corvo wondered how much longer the brand would lie on his hand, assuming that the Outsider had grown bored and moved on to greater things and other people.              

However, what the Outsider did anymore mattered little to Corvo, and as he hurried along the hallway to meet Emily in her mother’s old study, he pushed all thoughts of the past from his mind and entered the room. Morning sunlight streamed through the windows, and Emily was seated at a table in one of the large armchairs, her head bent over several pieces of paper strewn before her. A small smile graced Corvo’s face. It was always cheering to see Emily continue her drawing. He moved closer to her, and when Emily heard him, she looked up and smiled sweetly.

“Is Callista going to be here soon?” Emily asked. She continued scribbling in the drawing. It was highly caricatured but impressive rendition of General Tobias. 

“In a while. She was helping one of the servants in the kitchen this morning.” Corvo sat in the chair opposite Emily.

“Oh, right. One of the regular servants was sick, wasn’t she?” Emily squinted her eyes at the drawing and then held it up for Corvo to see. “What do you think?”

“It’s remarkably accurate, but I think his frown is larger than that.”

Emily giggled. “You think so? Maybe I should give it to him. It’ll help him to remember to smile more.”

She pulled out a clean sheet of paper and stared at it thoughtfully. She glanced at Corvo, then back at the paper, bit her lip, and stole another look at Corvo. He pretended to not notice, looking instead out of the window, but Emily spoke up quietly, her pencil digging swirls into the paper.

“Corvo,” she started, “I know we were just talking about the Fugue Feast at the last meeting with General Tobias and Captain Curnow.”

Corvo remembered. The two men had expressed concern in allowing the Feast to commence this year. The previous year it had been cancelled by Burrows due to Dunwall’s tumultuous state. With Emily on the throne and the plague beginning to cease, the Oracular Order had suggested reinstating the feast—for morale and nostalgia’s sake. The women of the order believed that such a celebration would attract people back into the city, and Dunwall would become less of a ghost town.

“Callista told me that some of the sisters in the Oracular Order are putting on a special festival on Clavering Boulevard, for families and children. There’s going to be games and food. And—“ Emily peered up at Corvo, her lips already twisted into a pout. “Would you go with me, Corvo?”

Corvo was floored. “Emily, I—" 

“Please, Corvo?”

“It might not be the safest—“             

“But if we _just_ go to the sisters’ festival—“            

“The Fugue Feast isn’t the best time of year to be out—“

“It’ll just be for the day. _Please_ , Corvo?” Emily flopped back in her chair, disappointment coloring her cheeks red. “Ever since I got back, it’s been _empress this_ and _empress that_. I do nothing but go to meetings and study with Callista. I never get to leave Dunwall Tower." 

“That’s mostly for your own safety, Emily,” Corvo gently reminded her, the image of Jessamine’s limp body still vivid in his mind.

Emily released a dramatic sigh. “I _know_ , but for once, I’d like to do something fun. It’s not as if I would be skipping any meetings. It’s the Fugue Feast. Everyone else will be celebrating.”

She did have a point. Corvo shook his head a little, but looking Emily tugged at his heart. He could not help but relent.               

“All right. Say we do go to the Fugue Feast, how would we keep people from knowing their empress is out wandering the streets with them?”

Emily bolted upright in her chair, eyes ablaze and victorious. “Masks!”

Corvo could not help but chuckle. “You’ve already thought about this?”

“So does this mean you’ll take me?”

Corvo sighed. “Yes, Emily, I will take you. But only if we return before night. Okay?”

“Okay!”

The door clicked open, and both Corvo and Emily looked up to see Callista struggling through the open doorway, carrying a small mountain of books. Corvo rushed to the door to keep it open as Callista nearly stumbled into the room. 

“Oh, hello, Corvo,” she said breathlessly. “Thank you.”

Corvo helped her pile the books on another table as Emily looked on in dismay.

“Lady Emily, are you ready to start? There’s a lot to cover in the history of Dunwall economics.”

Emily visibly deflated and barely mumbled, “Yes. Okay.”

Corvo smiled in sympathy, and as Emily dragged herself over to the second table where Callista was opening several books, Corvo slipped out, leaving empress and tutor to their lesson.

**

The Fugue Feast was a week away. Corvo had hoped that Emily might forget. 

She didn’t.

Corvo had been waiting for her in the study, slowly flipping through an old novel. When Emily arrived, she bounded over to her desk and pulled a paper mache mask out of a large drawer. Her face beaming, she held it up for Corvo to see. It had an odd shape but was sufficient for covering most of Emily’s forehead and cheeks. She had painted it a vibrant purple with blue and yellow butterflies all over it. While certainly not a masterpiece, she had obviously spent painstaking hours painting the delicate patterns on the butterflies with the swirls on the wings and the golden tendrils that circled and twisted around each creature.

Emily waited patiently for Corvo to express his approval of her hard work.

“It’s very pretty, Emily,” Corvo said with no lack of sincerity. 

In the back of his mind, he wondered what he might wear to cover his face. The only mask he owned was the contraption Piero had made for him months ago, and the detested thing was buried in a chest, under blankets and books, left to be forgotten. However, his words of praise for Emily’s mask buoyed her cheerfulness, and before Corvo could ask what he should wear, she announced that she was making a mask for him as well.

“I hope it will look as good,” she said thoughtfully, looking down at her own and rubbing a thumb along the edge. “It’s almost done. I can show you tomorrow.”

 A guard turned the corner and knocked on the doorframe before entering the room. Emily hid the mask behind her back, and as the guard bowed to her, she shared a small, mischievous smile with Corvo.

“I’ll see you later, then?” Emily waved to Corvo, still balancing the mask behind her back, and followed the guard. 

**

Corvo was sitting in Emily’s bedroom at a vanity while the little empress tied the ribbons of his mask together. The mask had taken her a day longer to finish than she had predicted, but in her excitement—both over the masks and the upcoming feast—she had run to Corvo’s quarters and demanded he go with her to try his new mask on. Although the hour was late and Corvo knew Emily needed sleep more than he needed to be fitted, he nodded sleepily and let her lead him away.

The mask itself was more crudely shaped than hers, but the ribbons tightened the edges to his face, concealing his features. The cheeks of the mask were pointed down toward the jaw, and the paper covered all but his mouth and chin. It was painted dark blue with pinpricks of white stars on the forehead and a crescent moon on the left side. Though less detailed than her own mask, Corvo’s mask was equally pretty but more understated in its elegance. At times, Emily could be finicky with her artistic endeavors, and Corvo assumed that she devoted as much time to his mask as she had to her own. Even when the black ribbon snagged some of his hair as Emily finished tying them, Corvo felt Emily’s enthusiasm for the Fugue Feast slowly affect him. He was no more enthused about attending than he had been the past few days, but Emily had not shown such eagerness about anything this strongly since before her mother’s death. Corvo felt that the girl deserved more chances to experience her childhood amidst all the duties of a newly crowned empress. 

“Does it feel okay?” Emily’s eyes met Corvo’s shrouded ones in the mirror.

Corvo adjusted one ribbon so that it rested more on his ear. “It feels fine.” 

Emily nodded, pursing her lips. “Do you like it?”

“Yes. It shows of good craftsmanship. Your hard work paid off very well, Emily.”

Emily grinned and plopped herself onto the vanity’s bench next to Corvo. She picked up her own mask from the tabletop, holding it up to Corvo’s.

“I wanted them to match, but I ran out of purple paint.” She placed it back onto the table. “Have you ever been to the Fugue Feast, Corvo?”

Corvo pulled at the ribbons of his mask, wincing as the knot stubbornly clung to his hair again. “No. Although your mother would host banquets or parties in the Tower a few times, she was accompanied by other officers.” He stared at their reflection, reminiscing over memories nearly forgotten. “One year, I was training out in the courtyard, and I saw fireworks in the distance. I did hear later that several people were injured, and a few homes caught fire. I think a high tariff was placed on gunpowder after that. There haven’t been fireworks since.”

Emily hummed to herself. “I wonder what it will be like,” she mused. “We’ll leave early, won’t we?”

Corvo made a small bow and said in a nasal voice that never failed to make Emily laugh, “We will leave as early as you command it, my ladyship.”

And of course, Emily giggled.

**

Corvo was far from any giggling mood, come the morning of the festival. Emily had promptly bounced onto his bed at dawn. In a groggy voice, Corvo reminded her that the festival did not start until midmorning. She had pouted but slinked out his room, leaving Corvo to toss and turn in a fretful attempt to fall asleep again. 

At breakfast, Corvo caught a glimpse of Emily through the door to the dining hall. Callista was seated with her and speaking too softly for Corvo to eavesdrop. He shook his head at Emily’s obvious impatience, and every time Callista glanced away, Emily would bounce in her seat. She had already entrusted the masks to Corvo’s care, and the two items lay innocently on the desk in Corvo’s room.

Meanwhile, Corvo made his usual rounds about Dunwall Tower. Being a time of holiday, there were fewer guards inside, and servants hurried through their cleaning, washing, and cooking so that they too could slip out to join the revelry in the street. It was surreal, Corvo thought, how quiet it was in the tower. With twenty servants, fifteen guards, five officers, and numerous officials, tutors, or guests of the state, the Tower was usually a bustle of activity. All noise had moved to the Feast, and nothing but silence followed Corvo as he walked the halls.

His own duties had been shortened for the day, and once he had finished checking up with the head officer, he stole away to his rooms to change before he would meet Emily in her study. He tugged off his gloves, dropping onto his bed before quickly slipping out of his overcoat and vest for a less conspicuous jacket. He glanced at the small clock on his desk. He was meeting Emily in five minutes, and he considered for a moment using his powers to rush past anyone who might deter him. He held up his left hand, staring at it. Although his dreams had been exceedingly ordinary the past few months, the mark on his hand would still glow when he willed it. Corvo sighed and decided to not think more of it.

Keeping to back stairwells and teleporting past any servants he encountered, Corvo arrived five minutes later than he and Emily had planned. Emily leapt to her feet when she saw him. She had also worn darker and simpler clothes, and with more than a little urging on Corvo’s part, he was finally able to fasten her mask onto her face, despite her bouncing and wriggling. Once his own was in place, they hurried through the back, past the late empress’s music room, past the old spymaster’s bunker, and through an emergency stairwell and back alleyway that took them to the streets.

**

The first things Corvo noticed were the scents. The smell of freshly baked breads mingled with spices in the air. Spilled wine spoiled the pleasant aromas, and the smell of salt and fish drifted from the sea—a mixture of debauchery, festivity, and old sailor tales. None of this deterred Emily as she dropped Corvo’s hand and ran the entire next block. Corvo quickened his own step to keep up with Emily, and as they turned the corner, the pure splendor that met his senses took Corvo by surprise. Banners and streamers had been strung across the street, and tall maypoles graced the curbs. Kites were tied to windowsills and floated above the street like hovering spirits. Stalls and booths lined the streets. Some had muffins, tarts, and candied pears piled high. Others had games of ring toss or bottle pyramids to be knocked over. The rest of the stalls displayed baubles to be won or bought—flower wreaths, charms, fans, kerchiefs. Music crooned from a lonely, rusted audiograph player, but a few men had brought out old fiddles and guitars. Already the crowd was thick, and each face Corvo saw was obscured by cloth, masks, or paint. Emily cared naught, and with wide eyes, she raced forward and disappeared into the mass of people.

Corvo started when Emily vanished from his sight, and trying to not panic, he quickly pushed his way through people, trying to spy the purple butterfly mask. The crowd was hardly rowdy, but the lack of any lawful presence during the merriment made Corvo especially nervous. He didn’t dare call Emily’s name, but his keen eyes roved the street as he slid past people and hurried along the stalls.  Once, he would catch a glimpse of her wandering through the flower wreaths only to push through people and find no Emily.

His hand itched terribly, and a small part of him was tempted once more to use his powers to give him more time. Corvo forced himself to pause at the end of Clavering, the sea in sight and the glare of the sun shining into his face. He closed his eyes and breathed deep, praying to whatever deity would listen to his plea to find Emily unharmed.

Something tugged on the hem of his jacket.

Corvo inhaled sharply and jerked his head to look about him. There was no one near him as most of the crowds were milling behind him. There was a wolfhound fast asleep, nestled in the shadow of a nearby stoop, but no other creature might have passed Corvo. His eyes continued to shift alongside the waterfront, his heart beating faster as unease filled his stomach. He could see lines of boats, tied to posts, along the waterfront, and as his eyes scanned the water, he noticed two children standing alone by the riverbank.

Relief washed over him when he saw that one of them was Emily. As Corvo approached them, he could see more of the other. It was a boy about the same height as Emily. He was dressed in ratty trousers and a baggy, patched up jacket. No shoes, Corvo noted. Despite the boy’s ragged appearance, though, the mask upon his face was expertly crafted. Nothing could be seen of his face aside from the black hair lying over the top of the mask and heavily shadowed eyes peering from two peepholes. The mask was dark, either green or blue, with fish coiled around the edges—carved, not painted, and there was gold dusting on the fishes’ scales that glimmered brightly in the sunlight.

Emily turned when she heard Corvo approaching.

“Oh, there you are!” She ran to him, grabbed his hand, and pulled him over to the boy. “I was worried when I couldn’t see you anymore.”

Corvo didn’t say anything and just shook his head slightly, too relieved to chastise Emily. He instead fixed the other boy with an intent stare. Now that he was closer, he could see the boy was very young, and he had no reason to worry if this was who Emily had befriended.

Emily gestured to the boy. “He was telling me that a lot of people came today by boat. That’s why all there are so many boats here,” she told Corvo. “Plus he was sharing some of his snacks. “ She looked back at the boy. “Thanks, by the way.”

The boy tilted his head. “You’re welcome,” he said, his tone oddly formal. He looked up at Corvo, dark eyes scrutinizing. “And you are?”

“Oh, this is my dad,” Emily pounced, surprising Corvo and leaving him little room to argue.

It was just as well. No need for strange little boys to know that the empress and her lord protector were wandering through parts of the Fugue Feast as civilians. The boy sniffed in what sounded like either a scoff or a laugh. The mask made it hard to tell.

“Did you come with your family?” Emily asked him, smiling.

“I don’t have family.”

“Oh.”

The silence that followed was awkward, and Emily looked down at her shoes while Corvo just stared at the boy. The boy finally stiffened, as though he suddenly realized the strangeness of what he just said.

“Have you played any of the games yet?” he asked Emily. “You should before they run out of prizes.”

Emily perked up at the idea, smiling brightly at the boy. “Right, of course. Can we, C—dad?”

Corvo nods. “Just don’t let me lose sight of you again.”

The boy began walking back toward the heart of Clavering, and as Emily went to follow him, she assured Corvo that she will stay near him. Corvo tried to run a hand through his hair but stopped when his hand caught the ribbons. He sighed and started walking up the steps behind Emily. Hopefully, the rest of the day would be less distressing.

**

Emily’s joy made every bit of Corvo’s earlier panic worthwhile. She had scurried from vendor to vendor, nibbling on sweets and gazing longingly at the beaded necklaces and embroidered handkerchiefs. She had played game after game, loudly challenging Corvo and the boy to do better than she did. Everywhere she walked, her step was lighter, and Corvo knew she had not smiled this brightly or laughed this loudly since before her mother’s death. Corvo filled with warmth at the sight of Emily’s childhood returning.

“She has a nice smile, doesn’t she?”

Corvo nearly jumped off the ground before glaring at the boy. The boy moved silently, and this was not the first time he sidled to Corvo, startling him with inane or unnerving comments. After enduring an hour of the boy’s comments, he learned to stop reacting and said nothing.

The boy was far from deterred. “Do you always carry weapons with you to festivals?”

Again, Corvo flinched. Thankfully, Emily was too distracted by one vendor to have heard the question because, yes, Corvo had slipped a tiny knife into his boot. He had it in case of an emergency, but he did not wish for Emily to know. Corvo spared the boy another glare, more intense than the first and still said nothing.

“Talkative,” the boy mused—smiled evident in his voice—as he matched Corvo’s longer strides. He tilted his head, staring at Corvo. “Interesting…tattoo you have on your hand.”

Corvo shoved his hand into his pocket. His glower grew worse.

“Is your daughter always this trusting? She doesn’t even know my name.”

Silence from Corvo.

“Do _you_ want to know my name?”

“…no.”

“So you _can_ speak. I was beginning to think you were mute.”

Corvo grit his teeth, wishing he hadn’t even said what little he did. The boy obviously took it as an invitation. 

“What do you think about the new empress?”

Corvo’s ears perked. He refused to allow the boy to know he was listening, but Corvo did care to hear what the boy had to say.

“Sad how she came to the throne. But politicians are fickle, aren’t they?”

Corvo agreed but would not humor the boy with a response.

“It is curious that her lord protector kept his position. Wasn’t he accused of killing the last empress?” The boy looked up at Corvo. “Seems suspicious that he would be back. As though by fate or by what some might call—“ He paused, staring as one of the sisters of the Oracular Order briskly walked past, her arms carrying a basket full of sweet rolls. “—heresy. But then again, I never did like the Abbey and their idea of heresy.” The boy kicked at a pebble with his foot before abruptly holding up the same bag of roasted almonds he had shared with Emily. “Almond?" 

Corvo held his hand up and shook his head, glad to see that Emily had rejoined them. She grabbed Corvo’s hand and excitedly began to describe a charm she had seen at one of the stalls. 

“You can win it if you land four of the balls into the middle bowl,” she explained as she quickly gave the vendor a couple coins to play. 

The charm itself hung in a display full of other stone charms, but Emily had been enchanted by one lone whale, carved from a small river krust pearl, that dangled on the end of a line of yellow and pink beads. The rules of the game were simple, and Emily would succeed at throwing each ball but one or two correctly. Every time she lost, she huffed a little but would pull out more coins to play. Corvo offered to try for her, but Emily promptly said that she would do it herself. The boy with them let out his weird laugh again as he sat back on his haunches to watch Emily. Corvo also chuckled at Emily’s stubbornness, but his humor was cut short when he saw a familiar, worried face in the crowd.

His eyes widened when he saw Callista, walking slowly down the street. She was accompanied by a man—presumably a guard in civilian clothes. Dread crashed upon Corvo as he wondered if he and Emily had lost track of time and had been gone too long. 

Quickly, he ducked down beside Emily and whispered, “Emily, we need to leave right now.”

Emily frowned, looking confused. “Wait, why—?”

Not waiting for Emily to finish speaking, Corvo took both of Emily’s arms, ushering her deeper into the crowd and past the point where he had seen Callista. He hoped that even if she had seen him or Emily that she would not have recognized either of them. He only stopped once they were off Clavering, nestled in a side street. It was no surprise to see the boy close behind them, lurking at the entrance of the alley.

“Why do we have to go?” Emily demanded, sounding disappointed more than angry. “I was going to win that time, for sure!”

Corvo knelt beside her, trying to ignore the other boy as he inched closer to them. “We’ve been gone a long time.” He glanced at the boy and then back at Emily. “We might be missed,” he said, desperately hoping Emily understand him and his unwillingness to say too much around her new friend.

Emily’s shoulders slumped, and she bit her lip in an unhappy pout. Despite her long face, she made no argument, for she knew how important it was for them to remain hidden.

“All right,” she mumbled before looking to her new friend apologetically. “Sorry we have to leave now, but it was fun. Thanks for the almonds.”

The boy handed her what remained of his bag. “You can keep the rest. I don’t like eating.”

Emily let out a startled giggle. “Okay. Thanks.” She shifted on her feet, pouting again when Corvo pulled at her sleeve. “Well. See you around, I suppose,” she said with a halfhearted wave to the boy.

“Bye,” he replied with a wave of his own.

He stood unmoving when Corvo began to lead Emily away, and once the pair were nearly out of the alley, the boy’s voice drifted lazily to Corvo’s ears.

“Goodbye, Corvo.”

Corvo started and turned back to look at the boy. The alley was empty. Corvo blinked slowly and wondered if he had imagined it. Emily’s brow furrowed as she stared at Corvo’s confused expression.

“What is it?”

Corvo shook his head and gave her a reassuring smile. “Nothing. Let’s get you home." 

** 

The two of them rushed back to the Tower. They had more than one close call, evading the guards deftly as they slipped through the back entrance, down the stairs, back into Emily’s study. Corvo had barely shut the door of the study, and Emily had just slipped her mask into a desk drawer when Callista entered, looking harried.

“Oh!” she exclaimed in surprise. “Where have you been, Lady Emily? I was terribly worried when you disappeared like that.”

Emily smiled as though nothing in the world were different. “Corvo was with me. We were playing.” She gave Callista an innocent look. “I wasn’t missing lessons or meetings, was I?”

“Of course not. I was just concerned. I thought I knew all your hiding spots by now.” Callista looked aback when she noticed the mask that Corvo had failed to remove. 

Corvo cleared his throat and quickly removed the mask. Callista looked confused more than accusatory as she stared incredulously as Corvo, and the tiniest hint of amusement twinkled in her eyes.

“It’s an improvement from your other mask,” she teased, her features softening now that she knew Emily was all right.

“I thought so, too,” Emily piped in. “I made it for him.”

Callista and Emily shared a quiet laugh. Though the joke was at his expense, Corvo was relieved when Callista asked nothing more about the mask or Emily’s brief vanishing. He was glad to see Emily’s relationship with Callista growing better the longer Callista was her tutor, but most of all, he was glad Callista did not discover their little adventure into the city. Assured that she was no longer needed, Callista bowed and left the room, first informing them that dinner was to be served early that evening.

Emily went to Corvo to take his mask, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

“Thanks for today, Corvo,” she said with a tired smile as she put his mask away in the same drawer as her own. “It was nice.”

Corvo nodded, concerned that Emily had grown somber again. “We’ll have to go again next year.”

Emily stopped smiling, staring at the drawer and pursing her lips. “Maybe.”

**

Corvo dreamed for the first time in months. He dreamt of nothing but the sea, and in them, he was tossed mercilessly about the waves. He would thrash his arms and kick his legs, but every time he would break the surface and gasp for air, the currents dragged him under once more. It felt like minutes. It felt like hours. A cycle of swimming, sinking, struggling for air, swimming, drowning, coming back to life, more swimming. Hands suddenly pulled at his legs, and he no longer had the strength to keep his head up. He sank deep into the ocean. He couldn’t breathe, but he neither died in the dream nor woke up. Darkness surrounded him, and he could hear nothing but the quiet singing of whales. Slowly, his eyes adjusted, and he could feel the large creatures slowly swim beside him. The whales paid him no mind as he sank deeper and deeper. They only kept singing.

Corvo woke to the sun shining in his face.             

He remembered nothing of his dreams but the faintest echo of whales singing.

His hand hurt.

** 

Life returned to normal, and Dunwall Tower was once again bustling. Some guards were nursing hangovers, and some servants were concerned when one maid had still not returned for work. Otherwise, all was the same, and after eating breakfast and checking on the head officers, Corvo made his way to Emily’s study.

The room was empty, but Corvo did not move much before he heard someone running toward him from the hallway. He turned just as Emily skidded into him, her cheeks red from running. She leapt into Corvo’s arms, giving him a mighty hug. Corvo could hardly reciprocate, surprised at the little empress’s sudden change of mood from the previous evening.

Emily pulled away, smiling widely, her eyes crinkled. “Thank you so so so so much! I don’t know how you did it, but thank you!” She hugged him again before scurrying into the study.

Corvo watched her, eyebrows raised in question. Emily dropped a slip of paper onto her desk as she held up a string of beads. Corvo blinked. The whale charm.             

“Where should I put it?” Emily asked him, still grinning. “I want to have it where I can see it.”

Corvo shook himself out of his reverie before silently helping Emily tuck the end of the string around the edge of a drawer handle. The charm twinkled cheerfully in the sun, and Emily sat in her desk chair, admiring it for a few seconds.

“Thank you again, Corvo,” she said again, more seriously than before. “It means a lot to me." 

She stood up, giving Corvo another hug. “I should go,” she added. “Callista told me that her uncle needed to see me about something. She…wasn’t happy when I ran off." 

“Well, don’t keep her waiting,” Corvo teased, his own mood lifted by Emily’s cheerfulness.

She laughed and promised to not stress Callista too much that day, hurrying out of the study and running back down the hall. 

Corvo found himself staring at the charm again. Emily hadn’t won that. They’d left before she could. Curious and more than baffled, he saw the note lying abandoned on Emily’s desk. The words on it were scrawled in an unsteady hand, as though by a child who had just learned his letters.

“Here is the whale you wanted. Thank you for the marvelous day, Lady Emily.”

Corvo frowned.              

His hand began to itch again.

 

the end


End file.
